


Alien Encounters, Changing Fates, Business as Usual

by hithelleth



Category: Killjoys (TV), Revolution (TV), Supernatural
Genre: Gen, Time Travel, space travel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-28
Updated: 2016-09-28
Packaged: 2018-08-18 08:40:52
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,742
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8155999
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hithelleth/pseuds/hithelleth
Summary: They are all just passengers through time and space, some in more literal sense than others, a handful of particles that collide by either chance or destiny and part never knowing whether their brief encounter has, perhaps, changed entire worlds.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Erinyes_kiss](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Erinyes_kiss/gifts).



After what seems like ages, the turbulence ends with one final jolt that rattles every single bone in their bodies, a clear signal that they have landed – somewhere.

“What the hells happened, Lucy?” Dutch snaps, grappling with clumsy fingers to unbuckle the seat-belt.

In a disconcerting silence, her hands freeze as she exchanges puzzled looks with Johnny and D’avin.

“Luce?” Johnny questions.

All three at once exhale a breath they have held in when with a crack of static Lucy’s synthetic voice they rely upon so much comes up at last and their fingers regain the deftness to undo the safety belts.

“It appears we have been forcefully drawn into an Einstein-Rosen bridge route, John.”

“A what? By whom?” D’avin demands, standing up.

“A wormhole, D’av,” Johnny explains. “But, yes, by whom? That’s a good question.”

“By the route itself, it seems,” Lucy answers. “It or its source. The route is an energy absorbing space-time rift, pulling in everything that comes in its vicinity.”

Dutch sighs. “Figures.”

They mull the information over.

“Well,” starts D’avin, “Khlyen said the data should give you the answers. So…”

“So, if the coordinates led us to this wormhole thingy that brought us here wherever the hell here is, we’re probably supposed to find some answers here,” Dutch concludes.

Johnny scratches his neck. “While we’re at that, got any idea on _where_ here is, Lucy?”

“I have been collecting data since we have landed, John. We are on a humanoid species inhabited planet, the only populated one in a solar system of nine. We have travelled to another galaxy, which is by my calculations… very far from the J,” the AI answers.

“How far?” Dutch wants to know.

Lucy’s reply, her mechanical voice infused with bewilderment, sends them reeling, “I am unable to calculate that.”

“Fuck,” D’avin expresses everyone’s feelings, flopping back into his seat.

***

“You’d think the future Cas could’ve at least had the foresight not to drop us on top of poison ivy,” Sam complains.

“Don’t scratch,” Dean warns him.

Sam harrumphs in response.

“Come on, Sammy, there’s nothing like chasing aliens in the woods in the middle of the night,” quips Dean, trying to raise both of their spirits.

He has lost track of how long they have been walking through the woods for; it could be twenty minutes or a couple of hours, stumbling over tree roots and banging their heads against the low growing branches.

“It’s not aliens,” says Sam.

“Well, better not.” Dean is pretty sure he wouldn’t be a fan.

“It wasn’t aliens the last time,” Sam points out, ever-so-helpful.

“Freaking fairies,” Dean mutters. “What I want to know is why these won’t work.” He turns his flashlight on to no effect for the umpteenth time, then shakes it and slaps it against his palm, as if that would make it work.

“What _I_ want to know,” Sam says, “is why we are here in the first place. I wish Cas would’ve been less cryptic than ‘there’s somewhere you need to be right now’.”

“You and me both.” Dean sighs in agreement, then stops in place. “Did you hear that?”

***

“Fuck, this is taking longer than I thought,” Miles grumbles.

“We’re almost there. Over this ridge, that’s where the lights went, whatever they were,” Bass whispers.

They were just getting ready to turn in, Miles taking up the first watch, when white-blue orbs shot across the sky. Sleep was forgotten in an instant in favour of going to investigate. They underestimated the distance, though; it was hard to guess in the dark, and they had to move with as much stealth as they could, not knowing what to expect.

“It’s either Patriots or nanites,” Charlie muses, guessing as well as any of them.

“Patriots, I hope,” Bass says.

Miles agrees: “Yeah, at least them, we can shoot. Nothing we can do about those goddamn green sparkles.”

“If it’s Patriots, they must’ve gotten their hands on one of those pendants,” Bass speculates. “We could damn sure use it ourselves, that’s if we can get to it.”

“Let’s just first check it out, see who and how many of them there are, in case we need to send Charlie go get Rangers reinforcements,” Miles

“Why me?” Charlie hisses, and then freezes just as Miles is about to launch in some bullshit explanation. “Shh, I think I’ve heard something. There, on the left.”

***

“The lower atmosphere of the planet is filled with self-replicating nanoparticles which absorb electricity. I have put up a magnetic-powered shield as soon as I detected interference with my power supply on landing, but…”

“Of course there’s a _but_.” D’avin sighs as Lucy relays her analysis of their whereabouts.

“The nanoparticles are sentient and may break through the shield as they evolve,” Lucy provides.

“Which means we have limited time,” Dutch says. “We’d better find whatever we’re supposed to find here ASAP and get the hell out of here.”

“We may not be able to do that, Dutch. The Einstein-Rosen route we have arrived by is a high-level one-way energy flow I do not have enough power supply to counter.”

“So, you’re saying we’re stuck here?” D’avin sighs. “That just great.”

“No.” Johnny worries his lip, thinking.

Dutch paces to and fro until Johnny speaks up.

“This is probably where the wormhole starts, right? It wouldn’t make sense for us to end up here if it started anywhere else, wouldn’t it draw us there in that case? Lucy?”

“That is a correct assumption, John.”

“So, if we figure out what opened up the wormhole, we can probably find a way to reverse the energy flow and get back to the J.”

“And how do you suggest we do that?” Dutch asks.

“We could start with them.” D’avin nods towards the monitor that shows the exterior of the ship. “We’ve got company.”

The feed of the infrared camera is showing five dots moving towards them from two different directions.

“I suppose that’s as good a place to start as any,” Dutch concurs. “What about our equipment, Lucy? Will the comms work outside?”

“The protective shield covers a fifty feet perimeter,” Lucy answers.

“So, as long as we stay within that field, we’re good. Let’s go greet the natives,” says Johnny.

The said natives look pretty much like them, definitely _humanoid_ , each carrying an assortment of weapons.  

They don’t seem to be working together, considering they pull their firearms against each other as they step past the tree-line onto the clearing where Lucy landed, before realising they are not alone. Dutch, Johnny, and D’avin train their own weapons at three of the incomers, eliciting a fast reaction from their comrades who turn weapons on the three of them in response.

“Hello, boys,” Dutch greets. “And girl,” she adds, quirking a corner of her lips at the smallest figure whose crossbow is aimed at Johnny.

“Dutch,” Johnny cautions.

Dutch shrugs. “What, I’m trying to make nice with the natives.”

“Holy shit,” the man with a beard and curly hair next to the girl says, his weapon aimed at Dutch’s head, as he gapes at Lucy behind her. “That’s a space ship, Miles.”

“I can’t believe it, actual freaking aliens,” the shorter of the two other men says almost at the same time.”

“Dean,” his companion warns.

“Bass, now’s not the time,” the guy with messy dark hair — who must be Miles — remarks in reply to the curly one. “What are you doing here?” he addresses Dutch.

“Yeah, we could ask you the same question,” Dean agrees. “ _All_ of you.” He casts an unfriendly glance around the six of them, exempting his partner. He flashes a smile at a girl as an afterthought, “Hey, there.”

That doesn’t escape Miles, who snarls at him, “That’s my niece, jackass.”

At the same time, Dean’s companion arches an eyebrow at him, shaking his head, “Really, Dean?”

Dean shrugs, but raises his free hand in a placating gesture. “I didn’t mean no disrespect.”

The girl smirks. Dutch thinks she might like her if she got to know her. And she guesses the girl could handle any disrespect just fine on her own.

“You, though,” Dean points his chin at Dutch and her companions, “wherever the hell you’re from, if you’re into abduction and experimentation, you’d better think again. No alien ain’t gonna get their paws on me and Sammy.”

“We’re not aliens,” Dutch objects.

“Actually, to them we are,” Lucy intones through the comms, making Dutch roll her eyes, as she adds, “and we only abduct and experiment on people after exhausting other means of communication.”

“Not helpful, Dutch,” D’avin comments, loud enough for everyone to hear.

“Listen, we’re not looking for trouble,” Johnny interjects before any of the natives can get up in their arms because of Dutch’s words. “We didn’t actually mean to come here and we just want to go home. If any of you can tell us how we can make this wormhole that pulled us here do the opposite, we’ll be more than happy to be on our way as fast as we can.”

“Christ,” Miles mumbles. “Someone wake me up and tell me I’ve drunk too much moonshine and had one weird-ass dream.”

Nobody pays him attention.

“How do you get _that_ through a wormhole?” the girl asks, frowning as she glances at Lucy.

“It’s not that kind of wormhole, Charlie,” Bass tells her, though that doesn’t seem to lessen her confusion.

“Anyway,” Johnny resumes, “If we can find out what caused the wormhole to open, which is most likely the same thing that keeps it going, we can probably figure out how to reverse the power flow. Any ideas?”

“Could be the fucking nanites,” Bass suggests. “Maybe all that power they sucked up when they started the blackout left a giant hole in space?”

“The wormhole is not actually a hole –” Johnny starts, but Sammy interrupts him.

“What nanites?”

“Yeah, and what blackout? Where?” Dean joins him.

“The blackout? When the power went out, like everywhere?” Miles returns, shaking his head at them like they have a few screws loose.

“Wait, is that why our flashlights don’t work?!” Sammy exclaims.

“Yeah, obviously,” Bass replies. “Why are you so surprised? Where the hell are you kids from?”

“Um, Kansas?” Sammy raises his eyebrow.

“Kansas?” Miles asks.

“Yeah, why?” demands Dean. “Wait, we forgot. This is supposed to be the future. What year is this?”

Now the other three look positively shocked, gaping.

The one called Bass gets it together first. “2029. Are you saying you’re from the _past_?” He all but yells the end of the question.

“Um, yes. Your past, it seems?” Sammy answers, hesitantly. “2012.”

“That’s when the blackout happened,” Miles tells them. “In September.”

“It didn’t where we come from,” Dean counters, then turns to Sammy. “Well, not yet. Maybe that’s why Cas sent us here, because something that happens before September is the reason for this blackout they’re talking about and if we find out what it is, we can stop it? Sam?”

Before Sam can reply, Bass jumps in, “So you’re saying you believe us?”

“Seen stranger things.” Sam shrugs. “Besides, I guess it’s just as hard for you all to believe us.”

“Lucy thinks your blackout is a consequence of the same event that opened the wormhole, not a cause,” Dutch informs them, listening to the AI’s surmising, which results in more blank stares.

“Who’s Lucy?” the girl, Charlie, asks.

“Our ship,” Dutch says.

“It thinks?!” Dean splutters.

“She,” Johnny corrects him. “Of course. Considering the differences you all mentioned, she believes you might be from different dimensional planes.”

There’s more puzzled staring.

Then Miles sighs. “What the heck. Do we agree not to shoot each other? My arms hurt and I’m too old for all this crap.”

Everyone glances around, then nods, slowly lowering their weapons.

“Look,” Dutch says, impatient to move things along, despite being quite entertained by these native specimens, “Something big must have happened that, as per Lucy, ripped the fabric of the universe apart, creating two planes of existence, at least for your planet, possibly for everything. One where your blackout happened, one where it didn’t. And in the process it opened the wormhole. Anything comes to mind?”

Sam and Dean share a look.

“Cas,” says Dean.

“Leviathans,” says Sam. He looks at the others.

“Say if someone stuffed themselves with the energy of like thousands and thousands of…” Dean pauses, “hell, we all think the others are crazy so I might just as well say it: souls plus some preternatural monsters, and all that mojo blew up, but inwardly, like swallowing everything… Could that be it?”

It’s time for Dutch and her team to stare. Miles, Bass, and Charlie seem just as clueless, murmuring among themselves something about souls and monsters and drug-high.

“It would be like a giant blast of power,” Sam explains. “The biggest ever, probably, but…”

“Centrifugal, like a whirlwind?” Johnny suggests.

“A power surge of extreme proportions directed inwards like a centrifugal force could open up an Einstein-Rosen route,” Lucy confirms. “The dimensional split must have occurred as a side-effect.”

Johnny passes the information over, then looks at Dutch and D’avin. “So, if a power surge created the wormhole, we need another one to reverse the energy flow. The question is: can we get that much power and how?”

“What about these nanites,” D’avin suggests, waving his hand in the air, “if they’ve been gobbling up electricity for how many, 17 – fuck, I hate that number – years, that must be one hell of a supply.”

“D’avin is right. If I could hack into the nanoparticles and rewrite their coding to release the electricity, it could suffice to reverse the energy flow through the wormhole,” Lucy agrees. “However, the nanoparticles may evolve and form defences faster than I can break through them.”

“Could you?” Johnny asks.

“I can try.”

“And if you can’t or the surge is not big enough?” Dutch asks.

D’avin doesn’t wait for Lucy’s response. “Then we’re stuck here,” he concludes, resigned.

They pass the gist on to the other five.

“What happens to us?” Charlie wants to know. “If the nanites release all that power?”

“Lucy says in order for the energy flow reversal to last long enough to get us home, she would also have to add a command for the nanites to self-destruct after releasing the power. She predicts your planes might merge,” Johnny explains. “You could have the power back, if you get the infrastructure up,” he adds when he sees Miles’ and Bass’ faces light up. “Or, nothing may change. Or something unexpected may happen. It’s hard to tell.”

“The possibility of getting the power back would screw over the rest of the Patriots,” Bass speculates. “Let alone, it would be mightily great having it back even if we have to work for it. Plus, if we got rid of the nano at the same time…”

“What if something goes wrong?” Miles asks.

“I think everything horrible that can happen already has, don’t you think?” Bass returns.

Miles grimaces. “Yeah.”

While the three are debating, Dutch catches Sam ask Dean in a hushed tone, “So, maybe Cas said we’re needed here because we were supposed to help them?”

“I guess so?” Dean agrees, shrugging.

“So, we’ll let them do it? Just checking.”

“Well,” says Dean. “I don’t think it can screw with _our_ life more than anything else already has? So, yeah. We let them do it.”

“Okay,” Sam gives him a brief, but decisive nod.

Dutch shakes her head, pretending she didn’t hear the part about ‘ _letting_ them do it’, although D’avin who must have been listening in to the exchange is scowling as she glances at him from the corner of her eye.

“We need to get in the air if Lucy is to try to hack the code… if the energy flow reverses when we are still on land, the wormhole might close too soon and leave us stuck here,” Johnny announces out loud, for the other five’s sakes.

They stand, shuffling on their feet for a few momenta.

“So, good luck?” Sam offers.

The others chime in with non-committal noises, conveying their agreement.

“You too,” Dean throws at the other three.

“Yeah, same,” Bass nods, joined by his companions, though Miles really just grimaces.

“Okay, then,” Dutch says, “It’s been a pleasure.”

They aren’t so stupid as to turn their backs on the natives as they retreat towards Lucy, though no one raises a weapon, but better safe than sorry.

“Hey, what is this planet, anyway?” Dutch remembers.

“Earth,” Sam calls back. “We call it Earth.”

Then they are inside Lucy, the port closing to the sight of the — Earthians, Dutch supposes — nodding while they exchange some words among themselves while Lucy prepares for flight.

“How are we on the hacking side, Lucy?” Johnny enquires.

“I believe I should be able to do it, John. However, it would be best if we’re hovering just above the nanite layer when I execute the command if the power surge is to push us through the route.”

“Agreed,” says Dutch. “Everyone, buckle up.”

“Whenever you’re ready, Lucy,” Johnny orders. “Take us home.”

***

This time when the turbulence stops, they holler in unison at the familiar sight of the J’s outlay around them, the Quad on the far horizon barely visible to the naked eye.

“It worked!” laughs D’avin.

“We’ve made it!” Dutch exhales.

“Thank you, Lucy!” Johnny calls.

“It was my pleasure,” Lucy intones. “I have also made some additional calculations. By my predictions the power surge was strong enough that by multiplication effect it should close the wormhole entirely. And I have compared the data from where Mr Romwell supposedly observed the organic transportation based on the level six plasma. It appears it has been en route via the wormhole, probably moving with the help of its force.”

They need a few moments to digest that information.

“Does that mean no green goo bogeymen coming for us?” Dutch wonders.

“My calculations are 95.8% accurate in that regard.”

“That’s good news,” Johnny says. “It’s not certain, but still, a good chance.”

“So, what now?” D’avin asks.

“Well, first, I could use a drink. Then, how about we get a warrant and earn some joy,” Dutch suggests.

“That’s it?” Johnny asks, looking puzzled. “What about the answers? We didn’t really get any.”

“Khlyen’s still out there,” Dutch remarks, grimly. “I’m pretty sure we’ll cross paths again, sooner rather than later. Until then…”

“Let’s killjoy,” D’avin grins.

“Let’s killjoy,” Dutch and Johnny agree.

***

“What the hell?!” Dean scrambles off of the forest ground.

Sam groans beside him, smoothing his clothes as he does the same.

The Impala is parked just a little ahead along the road.

“Was that a dream?” Sam wonders.

“What, aliens, a blackout?”

Sam nods.

Dean shrugs, heading to the car. “I guess if it was, then we had the same dream.”

“Do you think they made it, the others? If it wasn’t a dream?” Sam asks when they get in the car.

“I hope so,” says Dean. “I sure hope so, Sammy.” He turns the ignition on and drums his fingers on the wheel as the radio comes to life. “Now let’s go and see if it’s the same old world we know out there. And get something to eat. And a place to sleep. Damn woods.”

***

Charlie lies still, staring at the tree branches overhead for a while after she wakes. Something feels off, even more so when she moves and finds herself trapped in the sleeping bag. Then she shakes her head, trying to clear her mind, and fumbles with the zipper, noticing two more sleeping bags, already folded and piled together with three backpacks nearby.

“Morning, sleepy head,” Miles’ voice comes from the fire he’s got going.

“Morning, Charlotte,” Bass calls from a little farther away, holding his cell phone up and complaining about there being no signal.

“Morning,” she mutters, scooting out of the sleeping bag. “Man, I had such a weird dream.”

“What about?” Miles asks. He comes over and hands her a cup of coffee he’s just brewed.

“I dunno, spaceships, these guys, we were investigating something,” she shrugs.

“That’s funny,” Bass says, ambling back to them. “I dreamed about a spaceship, too, there was this hot chick and two guys… and apparently there was no power.”

“Are you two fucking with me?” Miles scowls.

“Why?” Charlie scrunches her nose.

“You’d done some psycho mumbo-jumbo, haven’t you? Got me drunk and told me some crazy stories, made me think I dreamed it, and now you’re saying you dreamed it, too, for some kind of experiment or something? You know I love to help with whatever you need, Charlie, but I’d appreciate if you’d ask before making me your psychology project.”

“That would defeat the purpose of an experiment,” Bass says, earning a glare from Miles.

“Huh?” Charlie ignores him, staring at Miles. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. Wait, you dreamed that, too? That’s really strange.”

“Really, Charlie? That’s how you gonna play it? Fine. But I’d expect better of you,” Miles points his index finger at Bass.

“What? I’m not playing at anything,” Bass protests. “I swear.”

“Yeah, right.”

“I swear, Miles.”

“So, we all had a similar dream?” Miles doesn’t seem ready to believe it.

“I guess so,” says Charlie. “Maybe it was something in that rabbit stew yesterday. Didn’t you put some mushrooms in?”

“Well, that’s it.” Bass laughs. “Thank God we didn’t get poisoned. No more mushrooms next time.”

“It wasn’t…” Miles trails off, throwing his hands in the air, and picks up their water bottles, heading off to the creek while muttering something about knowing his mushrooms.

***

***

_Aaron wakes up in his dorm room to the dim twilight, his head on the desk and his neck hurting._

_He groans, rolling his shoulders and turning his head in different directions, as he tries to straighten in his chair. Fixing the glasses on his nose, he wakes up the laptop he fell asleep at some point during the night and blinks blearily at the screen while the images from the dream he has had replay themselves in his head._

_“That was a fucking weird dream,” he speaks to himself. “Probably a sign this code is crap.”_

_He glares at it for a minute, then puts his fingers on the keyboard and deletes it all._

~FIN~

**Author's Note:**

> Dear Cory, I hope this story is not terribly inadequate and has at least approximately lived up to your expectations. I tried my best.
> 
> (BTW, I wrote this about 3-4 episodes before Killjoys S2 finale when we didn’t know some things about Hullen etc. yet. Also, I think this is the most dialogue I’ve ever put in one fic. I hope I managed to convey at least a bit of personalities through it.)
> 
> What did you think? Good? Bad? Comments are always welcome.


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